Carrickfergus
by The Red Fedora
Summary: A one-shot in honor of St. Patrick's Day.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Burn Notice…just borrowing the characters for a bit. The italicized words are from an Irish folk song "Carrickfergus" which I do not own either, but it is fantastic_

_Author's Note: Set after Season 3 episode 9 – Long Way Back and inspired by the song "Carrickfergus". How would Fiona have come to grips with the aftermath of the near death of her brother and her imprisonment at the hands of the man who had killed her sister – particularly in the light of the fact that thanks to O'Neill she could never go home?_

The soft strains of an Irish jig filtered from the bar and carried across the wide white sand beach beyond. Fiona Glenanne could not help but laugh as the music reach her where she sat perched, her long legs stretched out before her, on the top of the low sea wall that divided the sidewalk from the beach. In her mind the music could not have been more out of place for the setting in which she found herself in. To her, Saint Patrick's Day brought back memories of cold and rainy days in Belfast, the smell of smoldering peat fires and her grandmother's stew, of green hills and grey seas, of stale beer and warm laughter…..of home.

Fiona pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. Her eyes gazed unseeingly out over the waves as they turned the color of liquid gold, painted by the rays of the sun setting behind her. Her long graceful fingers wrapped around the pendant secured on a chain around her neck, a delicate gold Celtic cross that had once belonged to her sister. It was the only thing she had left of Claire's, her beautiful little sister. She let the cross fall back against her chest and laid her forehead against her raised knees. A wave of sadness nearly overwhelmed her as her thoughts played back over the events surrounding Claire's death. The incident with O'Neill had reawakened old hurts and ripped open scars that would never…could never…fully heal. Tears dripped silently from the end of her nose as her brother's words played in her head. The words he had spoken to Michael when they had thought she was asleep.

_She can never go back…neither of you can._

She knew Sean's words to be true. They had been true long before now. It had never really bothered her before…but this year, on this day in particular, the homesickness was nearly debilitating. A cool breeze blew in from the ocean causing her to shiver as it penetrated her thin blouse. It was an unseasonably cool night for Miami. Her mind urged her to get up and retreat to some place warmer, but she was too exhausted to move, physically and emotionally. Fiona wiped the tears from her face with a shaky hand and turned her head toward the ocean. A line of dark blues and purples was beginning to form on the distant horizon as the day slowly merged into twilight.

All around her street lamps began to blink on, washing the pathway in a soft warm glow. Fiona smiled faintly as she felt a familiar presence approaching. She could not explain it, but she always knew when he was near. She turned her head toward the parking lot and the tension began to bleed out of her body as her eyes settled on a familiar figure making his way in her direction. A soft smile crossed his face as he drew closer.

"Hi, Fi." Michael said softly.

She smiled wearily as he shrugged out of his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders before sliding on to the wall behind her. She was not surprised that he had found her; he always seemed to know where to find her. Fiona sank gratefully into the warmth of the jacket and Michael's comforting presence. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her securely back against his chest. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck and let her eyes drift close. She smiled as he brushed a gentle kiss against her hair; her smile grew sad as familiar tune drifted toward them from the direction of the bar.

"Sing it for me, Michael." She asked softly, her voice lit with her native accent.

Michael settled her deeper into his secure embrace as he began to softly sing; his voice lit with an Irish brogue.

"_I wish I was in Carrickfergus, only for nights in Ballygram. I would swim over the deepest ocean the deepest ocean for my love to find."_

Fiona let her mind empty as she relaxed against him, focusing on his rich tenor and the melancholy words of the song. It had been her father's favorite, _Carrickfergus_. He had like the English version in particular, even though it a bit sad. A song of longing….a song that mirrored her own. She missed her father. His warm smiles, his comforting arms that had chased away bad dreams, his passion for life and his love for his country and for his family that he passed on to his children. She wondered what her father would have thought of the man who held her now. Though if Michael could win her brother over, she was certain Patrick Glenanne would have approved. A sad smile crossed her lips as she remembered Sean's hearty approval of Michael, even after finding out that he was not only an American, but an American agent. The smile morphed into a soft smirk as she replayed his words regarding the quality of Michael's American 'accent'. She was sure Sam would never let Michael forget that one.

She sobered as listened to Michael sing and her thoughts turned back to her father. She wondered what he would have thought of her life and the choices she had made. Would he be proud? Or would he be disappointed that she had not chosen to become a dancer or something more respectable…something safer. She had loved to dance, and she had been very good at once time….courted by the best schools with the best programs. Scouted by dance troops throughout Ireland…but that dream had died, first with him and then with Claire.

"_But I'll spend my days in endless roaming, soft is the grass, my bed is free. Ah to be back in Carrickfergus on that long road down to the sea." _Michael sang softly.

Endless roaming….that had been the consequence of her choice to give up her dream and to join her brothers and the cause of her countrymen. A choice which had led her to a man by the name of Michael McBride…a man who had stolen her heart and changed her life forever…the man who had broken her heart…the man she had later given up her country to find. She had almost given up hope of finding him when she had received the phone call that fateful day; the call which had led her to a dingy hotel room and the man that held her now. Michael Weston.

She smiled softly as a warm feeling spread throughout her, melting away some of the heaviness. Despite his desire and his endless drive to regain his former life, Michael had destroyed his chances to save her life….with her gun. She smirked softly.

"_I'm drunk today and I'm seldom sober, a handsome rover from town to town, Ah, but I am sick now, my days are numbered…so come all ye young men and lay me down." _

Michael held her silently as the song ended and the music transitioned into the faster tempo of the _Rocky Road to Dublin_.

"I'm sorry you can't go back, Fi." He murmured softly after a while.

Fiona shifted in his arms and looked up at him. She raised her hand and softly traced the outline of his strong jaw with her fingertips. "I burned those bridges long ago." She said softly with a sad smile as her eyes followed the movement of her fingers. "Besides I belong here with you." She raised her eyes slowly and met his. Warmth spread through her at the intensity of the emotion in his dark eyes. She slid her hand behind his neck and drew his face down to hers. Michael pressed his lips gently against hers in a soft tender kiss. He pulled back slowly.

"I love you, Fiona Glenanne." He whispered softly against her temple. His arms tightened around her as if he would never let her go.

She smiled and pressed a kiss against his arm as she settled against him. "I know." She whispered….and she did. She had heard it in his voice multiple times, though he had rarely ever spoken the words. She felt the laughter rumble in his chest as he pressed a kiss against her hair.

"Can I buy the fair lady a drink?" He whispered playfully against her ear, his brogue returning.

Fiona laughed softly. "You may, McBride, but don't expect that you have won me over." She remarked, mimicking the words of their first meeting in her brother's pub in Belfast….so long ago.

She allowed Michael to help her to her feet. He paused and pulled her into his arms. Fiona met his kiss willingly; she smiled against his lips as the melancholy she had felt earlier was burned away by the depth of this amazing man's love for her. Fiona felt a peace wash over her as Michael smiled and tucked her into his side as they headed for his car. She may not be in Ireland but she was home – with the man who loved her.


End file.
